5SOS one shots (boys x Reader)


24. Would You Mind

“Miss, would you mind – ?"    


"Sure, sure,” Y/N answers even before she's finished her sentence. And the waitress is looking so apologetic that Y/N can’t even be remotely pissed at being asked to move to the bar as she waits for Ashton to show up – even though she knows that deep down, he’s forgotten about tonight.   


And, like. She’s not one for overreacting or summat, it’s just. It’s her birthday and he’d promised (over and over and over again) that he would make tonight one of the best nights she’s ever had – make it the best birthday she’s ever had because it’s the first one that Ashton’s around for and, according to him, would most definitely not be the last.    


But she understands, really. He’s busy, and he’s been going through a lot. He’s been ill, been operated on, went back on tour, went straight back to writing and recording, played more shows, got ill again, still played shows, came home – got ill again. So, like. She’s not mad, not really. It hurts though, that he’s just stood her up like that – couldn’t even call or shoot her a quick text.    


Hell. For someone who’d promised it’d be the best birthday of all time, he hadn’t even wished her a happy birthday yet. Her family has, her close mates have, people she hasn’t spoken to since she left school have also wished her a happy birthday. But Ashton? Nope. No wish from him. No nothing.    


It’s like he’s just forgotten about her, which fucking sucks because he means so much to her and it’s like he doesn’t even care – which she knows isn’t true but she can’t help herself from thinking because why else would he just decide to not acknowledge her at all, leave her looking like a twat whilst waiting for someone who is most definitely not going to show up?   


Y/N breathes out a sigh. Honest to god, though, she’s not mad. She’s not. She’s just – hurt. She’s sad and hurt and that’s not how one is supposed to feel on their birthday. She props her elbows up on the countertop, rubbing at her temples as she sighs again, eyes fluttering shut. 

“Happy birthday,” comes a voice from behind her, startling her and making her blink her eyes open. And she doesn't recognise the voice so she turns, face already set in a frown even though he’s just wished her a happy birthday. Y/N’s met with the sight of one of the waiters, smiling at her in an almost shy manner, holding a cupcake up to her.    


She frowns, blinking once. “Um. Thank you…? Do I, uh – ?” She starts to ask if she knows him from somewhere, but then he’s shaking his head.   


“Nah,” he smiles, handing her the cupcake. “’m just observant. Probably a little too observant or sumthin’, because, like, you’re really pretty and probably waiting for your boyfriend or girlfriend or someone, so. But, like. I heard you on the phone when I was pouring your water, yeah? And, yeah. No one deserves to not have cake on their birthday. And cupcakes are really just little baby cakes so –” he grins, punctuating his sentence with a one-shouldered shrug.   


“No one deserves to spend their birthday alone, either, yeah?” Y/N smiles a little mirthlessly. “But thank you, though. Honest. Means a lot.” Her smile softens, turns into something more genuine.    


“Alone?” He frowns, “But.”   


Y/N shakes her head though, “Doesn’t matter. ’s just a birthday, you know? Cheers, for the cupcake,” she smiles at him again, then she’s getting to her feet. “I’d best be off now.”   


He frowns deeper, “You sure? I could buy you a drink or summat? Birthdays are a pretty big deal, you know," his tone all nonchalant, "I hear you’re born on your birthday.”   


No,” Y/N gasps over dramatically, “Really? Shit, mate. That's – that’s, wow. I can’t,” she shakes her head, and then they’re both laughing lightly to themselves. “Thanks, though.”   


“’s nothing,” he waves her off. “Have a nice night, yeah? Enjoy the rest of your birthday, however the fuck you want. Like, fuck that person who was supposed to meet you today.”   


Y/N just laughs, thanking him again before she’s walking out the doors and heading back home. She’s still upset, but, Ashton’s busy and she understands because that’s what she signed up for when she started falling for the dork with dimples and a constant stream of giggles and a mess of curly hair that he refuses to cut. So she gets home, changes out of the pretty dress she’d put on for the dinner, and she takes a bath with candles lighted up and Arctic Monkeys playing in the background – because it’s her birthday and she’ll do what she damn well pleases, thank you very much.    


By the time she gets out and is dressed in a pair of joggers and a tank top, Ashton’s sat on the lounge, seemingly having just gotten back, watching reruns of How I Met Your Mother on the tele. He looks up when she plops herself down next to him, cuddling into his side immediately. “Hey,” he greets softly. “You okay?” He asks, tone coloured in concern as he tries to look at her, but she just cuddles closer to him, hiding her face in his arm.    


“No,” she mumbles softly.   


Ashton’s arm – that had immediately wrapped itself around her when she cuddled into his side – tightens around her, “What’s happened? Who hurt my baby?”   


Y/N smiles, but she doesn’t even bother lying, “You.”   


Ashton freezes, forcefully pulling back to look at her with wide-eyes. “Fuck. What’d I do? I’m sorry, baby, for whatever I did. Shit.”   


Y/N smiles again, shaking her head slightly, pulling away slightly from him so that she can tilt her head back and rest it along the back of the lounge, “You stood me up,” she mumbles and it's silent and then Ashton’s swearing like he’s just stubbed his toe.   


“Fuck. Fuck. knew I had something going on today, shit, babe, I'm so sorry. I swear I didn’t mean to forget, I’ve been looking forward to this since, like, last week and – fuck. I haven’t even wished you – ” he shakes his head, huffing. “Happy birthday, baby, I’m sorry for being a shit boyfriend but I love you a lot and I promise – promise – that I’ll never stand you up again, like. Fuck. I never thought I ever would stand someone up. Mum raised you better than this, god dammit,” the last part of his rants being directed more to himself than anything. 


Then he’s darting his eyes back to Y/N, pulling her gently by the arms so that she’s sat in his lap now, and then he’s pressing his forehead onto hers, “Baby, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to. Especially not on your birthday. I mean, that doesn’t mean that I would do it if it wasn’t your birthday, but – "    


Ashton finally stops talking when Y/N leans in, kissing him on his open mouth because he’s not going to shut up, otherwise. When his body’s finally relaxed, shoulders slumped and he’s pulling her closer, she pulls away, a smile on her face. ”’s okay, really,“ she replies earnestly. "I mean. ’s just a birthday. Like, there’s always next year, you know?”   


“Well, yeah, but – ”   


“No buts,” she interrupts swiftly.    


“But – ”   


“Butts are for sitting.”   


You're a butt.”   


“You have a nice butt.”   


Ashton finally cracks a grin, sighing softly, “I really am sorry, you know? I feel like a horrible human being. Should’ve at least texted you or sumthin’. ‘m really sorry, Y/N.”   


“’s okay,” she shrugs again, rolling off of him to sit next to him and cuddle into his side, instead. “I mean. I got a cupcake today. And it was a pretty good cupcake.”   


“You got a cupcake?” Ashton asks, smiling, pressing his lips to her temple.    


“Yeah,” Y/N grins. “Some dude that was working at the place – he gave it to me. Said something about someone not being allowed to not have cake, and – Ashton, where are you going?”   


“To have a chat with this dude that thinks he can give cupcakes to my girlfriend,” Ashton says determinedly, already stalking towards the front door.   


“Ashton, no,” Y/N says, tone a cross between mildly alarmed and tremendously amused, latching onto his arm before he's walking out the door.   


“Ashton, yes.”  

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